Smallboob Nobreast
by Kyuubi's Angel of Darkness
Summary: In which bra tags and chest flatness becomes a very relevant thing and Sakura can't help but think that Indians are overrated. Stupid Ino and her dirty room.


**Yo. Too lazy to work on my actual stories so I'm putting this out. **

**Just saying, this is based on a true story.**

_**Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, I would't be writing pointless crack like this.**_

* * *

Sakura considered herself to be a pretty good friend.

A pair of hello kitty underwear, clean or dirty who knew, soared through the air and landed on the crook of her elbow. She scowled.

Scratch that, she was a _very_ good friend.

It was a typical summer morning. The kind that teenagers stayed inside to witness while little kids ran around outside. Being a young teenager herself, Sakura had been expecting to sleep till noon. Of course since she had stayed at her best friend's house the previous night, it was inevitable that she would be up earlier than usual to keep her friend out of trouble.

She yelped as she tripped over a stray object- were those Indian dancing sticks?- and smacked her head on the dresser. She sat up and rubbed her head.

"Damn Ino, why did you let your room get so dirty?"

Today it seems she was helping Ino clean her room.

Ino paused from her mad raid of the closet and looked around her room. Sheets were strewn about, blankets thrown on the floor, pillows sitting on her desk, papers randomly scattered everywhere, various knick-knacks littering every available surface, her TV half hanging off the dresser, crumbs from Kami-knows-what polluting the floor, and water bottles covering any extra space that could have possibly been empty and wedged between several pieces of furniture. She didn't even want to take an actual inventory of her closet. The worst part, her room wasn't that big to begin with. Shrugging nonchalantly, looked at her friend.

"I have no idea what your talking about." She spoke airily.

"Besides this is the cleanest it's been in months." Ino internally cringed as Sakura tripped and smacked her head once again the dresser. The pink haired girl stared at her friend in disbelief.

"Ino I practically live in this house. I know damn well that your room has never been this dirty."

"Eheheh." Ino chuckled sheepishly.

"INO! Don't forget to vacuum your room!" Her mother called.

"Yes mama!" Sakura stared at her friend exasperatedly.

"This is why you invited me over isn't it?" She deadpanned. Ino spluttered.

"No!"

"..."

"Really."

"..."

"Ugh fine yes."

"..."

"You're the only one that loves me enough to help!" She whined. Sakura sighed.

"Bitch." She grumbled affectionately. Ino rolled her eyes at her foul-mouthed friend. Only Sakura would turn a swear word into a term of endearment.

They worked in relative silence for the next few minutes. The only noise being the ridiculously sexual song filled with innuendos that could only be a hit of today's music, and the occasional question of whether or not something was dirty. Sakura rummaged through Ino's tank-top and belt drawer, trying to find room for the pile of tanks she balanced on her arm.

"Kami Pig, how many tanks you need?" She received a noncommittal shrug in reply. Sakura grumbled at her lazy friend and continued to sort through the drawers, putting away shorts, pjs and underwear.

In all honesty, was it really normal that she knew what clothes went where in her friend's drawers? Hell she was organizing underwear for the blonde.

That was kinda strange now that she though about it.

Before she could delve further into her mental discussion of whether or not she was a creeper, a bra landed atop her head as Ino randomly threw things out of the closet.

Scowling, Sakura pulled the offending item off her head and went to put it in the drawer. Curiosity nagging and being the cruel bitch it was, Sakura couldn't help but look at the tag.

Hey if she had to help Ino shimmy into a ridiculously frilly dress and then help her put her bra on while crammed into a stupidly tiny dressing room, then she was allowed to look at the bra size.

It was justified in a strange completely irrational way.

Sakura eyed the tag and spluttered as she read the size.

"You wear B-34?!" She questioned. Ino looked up, slightly embarrassed.

"Ah yeah, it's kinda small isn't it." Ino was inwardly cursing her small chest. It wasn't fair honestly, she was pretty tall for her age. A height of five ten was pretty uncommon for fourteen year-olds. While she liked being tall and knew that it would be easy if she ever wanted to go into modeling, she always found the excuse to grumble that her chest looked super flat when proportioned with her height. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost missed Sakura's grumble.

"Lucky bitch." Ino watched Sakura eye the bra as if it had declared itself her mortal enemy.

"What size are you?" She inquired curiously.

"..."

"Sorry what?"

"A-32."

An awkward silence filled the room as her pink haired friend pouted and both sets of eyes seemed to zero on Sakura's chest..

"Well, if it makes you feel better, they look bigger than that." Sakura contemplated the truth in that statement as both females eyed Sakura's decidedly small chest. A few more minutes went by as Sakura silently willed her breasts magically grow a size or two. She let out an annoyed breath when nothing happened. She cracked a joke and tried to laugh it off.

"You know Pig, if we were Native Americans, my name would be Smallboob." Ino grimaced and patted Sakura's head in a placating manner.

"No sweetie, if we were Indians, I would be Smallboob. You would be Nobreast." Sakura glared at the unfairness of the world. Whatever, Indians were overrated.

"Ino."

"What?"

"Shut up."

* * *

**Tada! Short, pointless, crack! This is actually a conversation that happened between me and my friend a couple years ago. Sadly I'm Sakura in this situation.**

**It came back to memory as I was marveling at the fact that in two years, my ridiculously small chest went from A-32 to A-34. Oh yay me. -_-**

** I just figured some people may get a kick out of my misery, because that's how society works darlings, so I wrote this.**

**I can't even comprehend how I'm related to my mom, she's got like melons for boobs.**

**Okay now that I'm done sharing random facts that may or may not have made you uncomfterable, review please. I honestly don't care what you write. Really I've gotten a review before that just says "The". So please review because I'm desperate for the feedback! Hope you all enjoyed!**


End file.
